Tell Me What It's Worth
by Volconix
Summary: The Battle of Harvest was the first real contact with the Covenant. Petty Officer Ashton Croft, a medic, is caught up in the middle of a war that's almost impossible to win. R & R please!
1. 1: Bitter Contact

Author Note (AN): What's up guys? This is my first Halo fic, and I really hope I get round to doing a few good chapters. I would like to thank Lt. Garry's fic "The Battle of Sigma Octanus IV" and several others for inspiring me to write this. I do not own Halo or any thing inside of it. Only PO Croft and other OCs. Have fun reading, and reviews are always welcomed!

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**0501 Hours, February 3, 2525. Fort Abraham, Planet of Harvest. "The Beginning of the Human-Covenant War; The Battle of Harvest"**

The bitter wind that had suddenly picked up bit into my face. The cloth cape that the UNSC had given us wasn't doing any good shielding us from the cold. My head was bent down, arms cross over my legs with my assault rifle leaning against the snowy wall of my foxhole. The cold had disabled my senses to a level where I couldn't hear someone sliding into the large hole. The figure walked over to me, discarding my face and everything else to look at my right arm.

He touched the small insignia of a red cross and backed up. I looked upward, administering who it was. From the lack of light I couldn't figure out who it was, but he was tall and stocky, which could only be one person.

"Eltee?" I muttered, my voice just loud enough for him to hear. As if on cue, Lieutenant Walsh switched the flashlight on his rifle on, shining it in my face. "What is it, sir?"

Walsh seemed to stand straight again, keeping his flashlight on. "Second battalion is getting pounded up front. General Walker has ordered all available medics in the fifty mile radius to roll out." My expression faltered. I was excited to experience what I had signed up for, but not in weather like this, where the cold had beaten my body to a pulp. "Get suited up Croft, you're heading out."

Walsh then climbed out of my foxhole, leaving me to the harsh weather once more. It took a while for my brain to register the Lieutenant's orders, but I stood up, exposing my upper body to the icy wind. I bent down quickly, grabbing my rifle and my bag of supplies. It was reasonably heavy since I hadn't been called for duty since I was shipped here. Hopefully it would empty soon.

As I stepped out of my hole I noticed that a whole convoy of vehicles had rolled in to Fort Abraham; Scorpions, Warthogs and Mongooses slowly moved down the dirt track carved out by the platoon when we had arrived. I walked slowly toward the makeshift road, waiting for someone to call my name. A few vehicles passed as I stood with my rifle clutched to my chest, and finally someone shouted for me.

"Petty Officer Croft! Echo Company, Third Platoon! Fall in!" An unfamiliar voice called out. I registered the source of the voice had come from a nearby Warthog, which had slowed down when I lifted an arm. The man spoke up once more. "Alright Doc, in ya come."

A large hand gripped mine and lifted me into the passenger seat. The driver resumed his seat behind the wheel and started the engine up once more. The soldier manning the 30. cal stepped down from his position, handing me a green balaclava. It was like a gift from the heavens, something to shield my ears from the cold, and the rest of my face for that matter. I lifted my green helmet off my head and placed it on the dashboard, taking the balaclava and slipping it over my head.

"Word from the top is that nearly all of second battalion are wiped off this planet. The Covvies have bombarded the front for a good few hours now, and the call for all the medics are real desperate." The driver turned off the dirt road, following the rest of the convoy through the forest formed around Fort Abraham. I put my helmet on, getting ready to reply, but the driver spoke again. "I'm Corporal Jackson, Delta Company. I'll be driving you to the frontlines, so fix that helmet on tight. It's gonna be a bumpy ride."

He was too right. Only a few miles out of the base the front of the convoy had come under fire. Immediately the 30. cal behind me opened fire on small purple ships in the sky. I didn't know what these were, but a yell from the Warthog confirmed the name. There were three Banshees, one on a strafing run above the middle of the convoy, where we were.

Suddenly a muffled voice erupted from my COM. Tapping my helmet, I opened the channel and waited for the distorted voice again. "This is Petty Officer Croft. Could you repeat that?"

There was silence on the COM, but the Banshees overhead lived up to their name and screeched towards us. Thinking it would do some good, I unloaded my MA5B on the oncoming Banshee. My bullets pinged off of the ship's hull, but was quickly reinforced by the 30. cal behind and soon smoke was trailing from the right wing.

"Croft!" My eyes averted from the final Banshees to the Warthog's dashboard, listening intently to the clear voice. "This is Sergeant McCollough. We've been hit hard at the front. Take your Warthog and follow the rest of the convoy through the woodland. We'll catch up. Over."

"Roger that. Any casualties to report sir?" Jackson was on the channel as well and turned off the dirt track and onto another one, where the rest of the convoy were driving on. For a split second I saw the debris up front; a Scorpion had taken a direct hit and the turret was blown off. Two Warthogs were also upturned, with fire erupting from their bodies. I was still waiting for a reply.

"One KIA, poor bastard was in the tank. Over."

Well that was no good. We were one man down and we hadn't even reached the front. I muttered a simple "okay" and cut the COM. Jackson's face however remained optimistic, as if he was getting thrills from the attack.

"Nice shooting back there Porfirio." Jackson yelled back. The 30. cal manner Porfirio did a mock salute at Jackson and a quick nod at me. I turned to Jackson who was smiling. "How'd you like that then Doc? Just a taste, y'know. The front is ten times worse than that. You're gonna be a busy man."

"Yeah.." I looked down at my lap, as the adrenaline that had pumped my body left and was replaced by the icy winds once more. For everyone else, this was just a warm up but for me, the battle had already begun.


	2. 2: The Hill

**AN: Sorry if the previous chapter was lacking a little in depth detail. I hope this is better. Thanks for all reviews thus far!**

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**0903 Hours, February 3, 2525. Outskirts of the Front, Planet of Harvest. "The Battle of Harvest"**

We had reached the Battalion CP without another attack. Sergeant McCollough's remaining men regrouped with us and we soon made it the unnamed base. The conditions seemed to ease as we neared the main battle' the blizzard that had formed was dying down, and small patches of sky (however dark it was) became apparent. When we made it inside the base, our eyes seemed to trail everywhere. It seemed as if the Covenant bombardment had gone off target from the main front, but nonetheless the damage was devastating. A hangar had been completely obliterated, the whole roof caved in.

"Jesus. Damn Covvies have some deadly aim," Jackson muttered, pointing at a few barracks which had large plasma burns embedded in them. The convoy split then; our half drove to the right, where a line of Pelicans lay in wait. I didn't like how we were going into this battle, especially since the Banshees and whatever else the Covenant had controlled the air. When everyone else started to jump out we did the same. The feeling of the ground underneath my feet eased the pressure on my ass blissfully.

The three of us made our way to the group of Marines gathering behind the Pelicans. We spotted McCollough who was receiving medical attention to a nasty gash underneath the eye. He nodded at us as we continued walking toward the huddle. As we neared, the sound of a familiar gruff voice "graced" our ears. Captain Aracen.

"..and they have sustained measurable casualties." Aracen stopped, perhaps taking a breath after his long speech. "Most of you are medics I believe? You are our secret weapon. You are our only hope to get to second platoon, and first if there's anything left of them, and bring them back. The big guns need to get intel from these wounded on our enemy, so patch them up as well as you can, bundle them onto a Warthog and haul ass.

"You will be sent in behind the first wave of Marines. They will soften up the ground so you can extract any living from the battlefield. You got that? Semper fi, you little bastards."

"Oorah!" We all chorused. Aracen's little lecture seemed to give everyone a morale boost. The large group broke off and jumped into the nearest Pelican. The first wave of Marines took up the first four Pelicans, just enough for the second wave along with us to scuttle in behind them.

Aracen beckoned for us to follow him into the main structure of the base. Inside, technicians could be seen all over the shop, ducking and diving into rooms as if we were playing tag. The captain made his way down the corridor and turned a sharp left into a fully metallic room. There, on dozens of racks, were our guns. Aracen paced faster so he could grab what seemed to be a new gun and show it to all of us.

"This here is BR-55 Battle Rifle, shipped here thanks to our good friend back on Earth. This killer fires a three round burst, just enough to weaken an enemy from a distance before shitting the Covvie up with your MA5B." Jackson let out a small laugh, as did others. I tried to join in, but Aracen spoke once more. "This is only a prototype, so expect upgrades in the future, if you can live that long. This will be your secondary weapon, with your M6D as your sidearm."

For another twenty minutes, Aracen went on about the newest upgrades to our weapons, introducing new ones and demonstrating how to use them. After that we headed back outside where the Pelicans had returned. Only this time with a few extras. The one which I presumed I would be going in had a gaping hole in its hull. Another had a wing blown off, and several technicians and mechanics were huddling round it. Judging by their battle scars this was goint to be even bumpier than the ride from Fort Abraham.

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Inside the Pelican the atmosphere was as cold as the weather outside. I sat nearest to the opening of the hold, harsh winds battering the Pelican, making it rock slightly. Jackson sat opposite me, and Porfirio next to him. It looked like they were playing cards; each had cigars lit and straight faces. I smiled slightly, wishing I could join in, but for me I needed to focus. When I hit that ground I could be killed instantly, wiped from existence. As soon as I hit the ground I've got to find immediate cover and move, straight from the book. 

As the dropship flew through another deep canyon, which Harvest had aplenty, the faint sounds of the battle had grew louder. The explosions came first, followed by the rifle fire.. then the screams. I clasped my hands tighter on my MA5B's grip, fearing what waited for us on the ground. Jackson and Porfirio stopped dead, hands poised for another round of poker, but the sounds from below made them concrete.

I saw a familiar face down the line; Lieutenant Walsh. I would've expected him to go in with the first wave, with his amazing combat skills which I had heard of in the mess halls many a time. I would finally get to see him in action, if I kept my head that long. The Pelican had stopped in the air and began losing altitude. All around me the sound of loading rifles and prayers went in sync with the cries of battle below. Walsh had walked up to the ramp, which was now above a battered platform.

"Second wave! Let's do this!" Walsh screamed before leaping off the ramp and into the battle. Everyone else followed suit, jumping into the snow as if it were a swimming pool. I remained sat down, but Jackson had spotted me and dragged me from my seat. Without stopping he launched me forward off the ramp.

Luckily I had regained my composure before hitting the snow. I landed on my two feet, leaning over a bit but standing straight when I had found my balance. Before me stood a hill composed of snow, debris and the odd body. Immediately the calls for a medic began, and I ran to the nearest voice. The man was prone behind a burning Warthog, with a small plasma burn on his arm.

"Thank God you're here Doc." I didn't know the man's name, so I simply nodded. He wasn't from my Pelican. This guy was either the first wave or second platoon. He took a vial of strong antiseptic and poured it on the wound. The Marine cursed but lead back, taking the pain like he was told to. "I'm Frost sir, Private Frost. I was part of the first wave but.. argh!" The antiseptic was getting to work. Now was time to get the bandage on.

I looked around, seeing a few familiar faces from the Pelican. I saw Porfirio, who had opened up some BR-55 fire on the hill. I looked at what he was firing at and stopped. The alien was tall, around seven feet with an energy shield wrapped around him, which seemed to weaken after each hit from the battle rifle. Soon the shield had wore out and the bullets met the Elite's body. Porfirio stopped to reload, which was a cue for another Marine out of view to finish the Elite of with his assault rifle.

I looked back at Frost, who had calmed down when the bandage was placed over the wound.

"Thanks Doc. Shit I forgot to tell you; Eltee has found a few stragglers from second platoon." Frost sat up, clasping his MA5B close to his chest. His light blue eyes seemed to shine with confidence as he got into a crouch, looking across at Porfirio. "Cover me Doc?"

I nodded. Shoving the bandages back into my pack I sat up against the Warthog wreckage. Tapping my helmet, I activated the COM, leaving it on Walsh's channel while I suppressed the enemy with a rounds of assault rifle fire. Frost got across to Porfirio without fire coming upon him. I looked across to find Frost, who saluted back and continued firing at the oncoming Covenant.

"Croft?"

I jumped slightly. The volume of the COM was a little louder than I expected. "Yessir. A Private Frost told me that you have found a survivors from second pl-"

I was interrupted by a large explosion from up front. For a split second I saw a green plasma slam behind the hill, but I was thrown down to the ground by the shockwave. The sound was multiplied over the COM. I waited anxiously, returned fire over the wreckage randomly, thinking I could hit something. Then Walsh spoke again.

"We did Croft. Not anymore though."


	3. 3: Rescue and Regroup

AN: Thanks again for every review! Advice always helps!

**1101 Hours, February 4, 2525. Marine Outpost, Caesar Station. "Day Two of the Battle of Harvest"**

It was lucky that the third wave came when they did. I was still pinned behind the Warthog debris, the body deteriorated after each plasma hit it took. I watched as we, the second wave, were cut down after each break we made to get over the hill. Porfirio, Frost; both were cut down as they tried to reach Walsh. The next thing I saw come over that hill was Walsh himself, dragging a Marine that was trailing blood all the way down the snowy hill. I stood up, lifting a hand for Walsh to come to me. Another explosion came from behind the hill and threw Walsh to his knees. Running towards him, I saw that he had lost his rifle and he had a wound of his own.

"Sir! You've been hit!" I looked over him, measuring the size of the wound approximately. It wasn't big enough to be a plasma shot, or small enough to be shrapnel. My conclusion was that he had been hit by friendly fire. But adrenaline seemed to outweigh the pain and Walsh continued to drag the Marine behind the wreckage.

"Croft, this is Corporal Xan from second platoon. He's in a bad shape, try and patch him up while I radio for the third wave." Walsh began searching the body for anything he could use against the oncoming Covenant. Unholstering is own pistol, which I presumed had very little ammo left, Walsh cut down the Grunts with deadly aim. He reloaded the clip and salvaged another two clips from Xan's ammo pack.

That's when another blast from the Wraith tank landed just behind us. This threw Xan over onto his side, showing me his wound in full. There was a large burn on his back, possibly from a barrage from an Elite's plasma rifle. When his wound felt the icy wind, Xan started to scream. This wound was too much for me and the dire supplies I had, so I quickly opened my COM.

"This is Petty Officer Croft! I need immediate reinforcements. We have many wounded and we need EVAC right now!" I cut the COM to attend to Xan, trying to calm him down. But the sounds of rifle fire and explosions around was causing him to hyperventilate. "Xan! Stay with me! Xan!"

The Marine looked up, eyes blurred with tears. "Get me.. out of.. here." He was fading, and I knew that EVAC had to come right now, or I would lose him. I looked around to see if any other medics were present, but all that met me was bloody corpses and abandoned weapons. Xan began to cough violently, blood oozing out the side of his mouth.

"Xan! Stay the fuck with me man!" The sound of footsteps snapped my head around, pistol quickly drawn. It was Jackson. He looked like he had on the Pelican; he had no blood on him and a smile was plastered over his face. "What the fuck Jackson? Get over here!"

Jackson slid down the hill and ran towards me, unclipping a grenade quickly to throw over the summit, hoping to kill and stragglers. When he sat next to me, I began to tell him what I wanted him to do.

"Calm Xan down. He's hyperventilating; keep talking to him while I try and find Walsh!" Another explosion came from behind the hill, probably Jackson's grenade and from the lifted snow came Walsh. Another Marine was on his back, and another wound on Walsh's leg became apparent.

"Shit!" I stood up and ran towards Walsh, who was smiling like Jackson. "Eltee! Are you crazy?"

"We need these men Croft! This is Sergeant Yorke, first wave. He's a little shook up but he's not hurt. Where the hell is back up?"

"I've radioed for it but-"

My voice was drowned out by the constant "rat-tat" of a machine gun. The snow around us was swept off the ground as a Pelican landed literally right next to us. I could see the pilot, who was gesturing for us to pile in.

"Sir! Come on!" I hoisted Xan's arm around my shoulder and began to walk to the ramp. The gunner stopped to let us through without ripping out our eardrums. I lead Xan across two seats and sat next to him, reassuring him that he was going to be alright. But it seemed to me that he was dead, since he wasn't moving and his eyes were closing. With everyone in, the Pelican lifted off and the gunner let rip once more. I got the opportunity to see what was beyond that hill.

The land was completely flat, with small holes cut into the ground thanks to the repetitive Wraith plasma cannon. The Wraith was now in a plume of smoke however, and the Brute driver was lying next to it, bathing in his own blood. The third wave was tearing through the alien survivors, beaten each down to a pulp. My eyes averted from the scene below when the pilot spoke up.

"_This is Gamma 225, requesting landing permission at Caesar Base."_

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"Croft.. Hey Doc, wake up." 

I opened my groggy eyes up enough to see Jackson standing over me. I groaned and began to sit up but immediately lied back down. My back was killing me.

"What is it sir?" I placed a hand on my back, trying to find any bullet hole or burn. But I guessed it was only my tendons playing up. I looked up to see an olive green ceiling. I had found out the previous day that I was in Caesar Base, one of the first bases stationed in Harvest when we found the planet. The doors were closed, keeping the cold out and the heat inside. Around me bunks were empty save the odd few Marines who sat on their bed either reading or cleaning their weapons. The relaxed atmosphere was a welcome break from the battlefield.

"Captain Aracen is holding a briefing in the hangar. We're heading out again."

My expression faltered. Going back out there had been at the back of my mind, hiding behind thoughts of getting off this planet and keeping my own skin. Swinging my legs over the bed I proceeded in getting into my battle dress. The garments left for me were better than the ones I had wore at the hill; the underclothes had been strengthened in a thermal material by the feel of it. They were also a mix of dark and light grey instead of green. Fitting my helmet on I stood up facing Jackson, quickly giving a nod before making my way outside.

Caesar Base was big. There were several buildings, mainly hangars and barracks. But in the middle of the whole compound sat a huge group of buildings. Groups of Marines were heading towards a particular hangar, so I presumed that was where Aracen was giving his briefing. Jackson had caught up with me and was walking along side me.

"How did you like The Hill?" Jackson asked, his pace quickening so he could keep up with me.

"The what?"

"The hill you were yesterday has become one of the first major battles on Harvest. Makes you kind of proud you were part of it, doesn't it?"

"Yeah.." I lied, not feeling at all proud of myself. I had found out that Xan had died when we had touched down at the base, which only worsened my current state of mind.

"Apparently the third wave had to be reinforced themselves by a whole bunch of helljumpers."

"What?"

"You seriously shouldn't have slept through the pilot's information. They're a new bunch of soldiers, not enhanced like the Spartans but they know how to fight. They were virtually how we won that battle."

"Other people helped make that victory happen sir, not just the helljumpers. Your friend Porfirio did."

Jackson seemed to stop in his tracks but began walking again, not replying to my statement. I guessed that they had been pretty good friends so I left it there. By know we were inside the hangar, where Aracen was standing on a pile of ammo crates. I then recognized McCollough, who had been promoted to Master Gunnery Sergeant. He nodded at me as the two of us stepped in.

"..the battle for the hill was a great victory for us, but it cost us many lives. But third platoon managed to bring back a few survivors from second and first. We've found out that further on down from the hill there is a Covenant compound.

"Most of the UNSC have been stationed down there but are getting beaten to a pulp. Even the Spartans are fighting." This caused a few mutters to go around the Marines. I looked at Jackson who was looking at Aracen, waiting for him to carry on. I regretted mentioning Porfirio like that, especially since I could've saved him.

"We will be leaving in two days time at oh-five hundred hours sharp to reinforce the 501st Marines and the Spartans. The General has told us to have some downtime while the Army joins the fray. Take this time to gather more ammo and prepare for one of the biggest fights of your lives. Dismissed Marines."

The crowd dispersed and Jackson went off in a different direction. Seeing a few medics head off in a particular direction I followed, catching up to the group.

"What's going on?"

One of the medics turned around and looked me over. He was reasonably tall with a brown bandana underneath his helmet. He spoke with a thick Australian accent. "We've gotta restock our supplies. New intel says that we need to take three packs of supplies since the conditions at the compound are shit."

"The name's Johnny Ives. You'll be with us if you were at the hill. Aracen has made a special squad of strictly medic and even promised us a Spartan bodyguard, but I think these guns can take on the whole Covenant army."

He flexed his muscle and everyone laughed, even me. Suddenly the oncoming battle seemed a whole lot more fun with these guys.


End file.
